Thursday, February 21, 2008

Happy Birthday, Dad.
I'm sorry it took so long.
Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher
But I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I can hear them say . . . .
~ Kansas

Friday, February 15, 2008

She Cries

She cries

in her car
alone, actively listening
to the song playing on the radio

She participates
expresses the words
entering her mind
then bursting from her lips

the music penetrates
layer after frozen layer
until it finds the inner-most
realm of soul, still as warm

as the day she was born

and it is from this solitary place
deep within the nucleus of herself
behind the closed doors of emotion

that she cries.

I cry in the car
all the time. Sadness
is my closest companion.

So, I channeled the poet for her, whoever she is.

I’m working on another piece that explores
the connection between music and the depth of our souls.

Perhaps I’ll put it up for a day or two.

Thanks for reading, and for being my friend.

Love, James.

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    Location: Far Side of Sanity

    And the iguanas dance in the desert/a thousand miles away from this place/and this face: stoned immaculate.

    "Let us remember . . . that in the end we go to poetry for one reason, so that we might more fully inhabit our lives and the world in which we live them, and that if we more fully inhabit these things, we might be less apt to destroy both." Christian Wiman, Editor of "POETRY" "Hang on to your hopes my friend; That's an easy thing to say, but if your hopes should pass away, simply pretend that you can build them again." ~ Paul Simon

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    "Imagination is more important than knowledge." ~ Albert Einstein